False Pretences
by GULLINBURSTI
Summary: Join the most eccentric of characters in Goldcrown Town as he begins to realize that he isn’t really the desired prince he believes himself to be, and from there embarks on a journey toward self-discovery.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

_"One upon a time, there was a young man with a beautiful face. The people loved the handsome young man, but he never showed the slightest interest in loving anyone. This was because all he loved was himself. When the young man who neglected to love and sought only to be loved found someone for whom he truly cared, he realized that he had lost even the words to express those feelings…"_

_Once upon another time, there was a young man with a love for fairy tales. The young man had a face so beautiful that he became convinced that he could rival even the princes from the stories he held so dear, and was thus a prince as well. Although the people loved to look at the handsome young man, they weren't able to make him realize that he wasn't a true prince, and he retreated further and further into his fantasy. Soon, the people found him unapproachable, and even when the young man tried to seek someone to care for he was unable to get close to anyone. Instead, the handsome boy surrendered to his own vanity and narcissism…_

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Obligatory disclaimer time! I don't own Princess Tutu or any of it's characters. I most likely won't be inserting any original characters, any and all characters that you don't recognize by name and/or appearance will simply be characters from the anime that were never named or made an appearance as an animal and never shown otherwise. Naturally, this is subject to change, as I am a very moody teenage girl and don't like to set my plans.

Anyway, yes, short prologue is short. I was attempting to base it off of the format of the narration at the beginning of the episodes. The first paragraph (in quotes) is a direct quote from the prologue in the anime (you know, the "Once Upon a Time" sequence that nobody really likes listening to), and the real prologue (the second paragraph) was meant to be a play on that. If you didn't get it, it's from episode seventeen in the series, also known as the episode featuring the holier-than-thou Femio who can't decide if he's of Spanish or French descent.

FYI, this fanfiction is aimed to have both romantic and comedic elements, but overall I'm going to attempt to take a more realistic, down-to-earth, and fairly serious direction with this story, because let's face it: Femio needs more "believability." It's going to be his way of figuring out who he really is and who he really wants to be, so the romance will (most likely) be on the back burners for a while. Naturally, Femio flirts with everyone, their Mom, and their Mom's (female) dog, so I guess you can say that there will always be some level of harmless romance throughout the course of the fanfiction. I do plan on setting him up with my own personal OTP for him, but as I don't want to give it away (but trust me, I'm not so crafty that you won't be able to quess), for now just assume that the intended love interest is Femio x Everyone.

After all, to quote directly from Femio at the end of episode seventeen: "...loving one woman is something of which I'm incapable!"


	2. Act 1 Scene 1

**Act 1 Scene 1**

The world was a dark, cruel place…more so than the beautiful young man could ever remember. Wind caressed the gentle curls of his dark hair, and as frail rose petals crumbled to ash through his slender fingers, he wondered what had happened. It was as if color had been sucked from the land, leaving nothing more than a dry wasteland of grays and blacks. These flowers were once the vibrant red of ripened strawberries, with the softness of an infant's cheek. What now? This new form was nothing more than a pitiful mockery of its predecessor. Such blasphemous foliage could no sooner provide proper fragrance than even begin to conceive finding a home in the delicate hands of a maiden.

That is to say, if there were even a single maiden present to receive such a gift. The place that the handsome prince found himself in seemed nothing more than an empty shadow that stretched out before him endlessly in all directions, rooted under the perfect shape of his polished leather shoes. There wasn't a single soul to be seen. He was alone. As he fell hopelessly to his knees, fists clenching among the dead roses littered unscrupulously about, the boy opened his mouth to cry in anguish his terrible, undeserved fate…

But was unable to utter a single sound.

* * *

"_MERCIFUL HEAVEN!_"

The despaired wail echoed through the halls of the boys' dormitory, alerting those that happened to be awake momentarily before they connected the voice to its owner and resumed their previous actions without a second thought. Although not commonly so early in the morning, such outbursts were normal for the eccentric resident (while not at all welcomed), and was ignored by the masses as dutifully as they could muster. However, while time flowed unblinkingly onward for the rest of the students, Femio felt like he was suspended in time.

Sitting up on his cushioned bed fit for kings (complete with layers of fluffed, goose-feather pillows and lighter-than-air comforters), the gorgeously tanned youth tried desperately to catch his breath, a hand gripping his forehead. Although he knew he was no longer dreaming, the nightmare lingered. It haunted him, floating in front of his vision like a dense, black cloud.

"A world without means to love or be loved by?" Femio whimpered rhetorically in a hushed sort of terror, "Even for a mere illusion cast upon this tragic sinner of sinners, such torment is cruel—far too cruel!" The haze began to clear, and he found the will to slide out from the protective shelter of covers. Barely had his feet touched ground when he whirled about, turning sharply to fly into his private bathroom. Femio's hands gripped fiercely at the edge of the clean ivory sink, gazing sorrowfully into the golden-lined mirror.

With fondness, the young noble took note of how the light of the morning sun filtering in through his ornate satin curtains highlighted his beautiful eyes. His lower lip quivered. "It's too much! My sin is far too great! I don't deserve such accursed beauty…such perfection!" With a mangled sob, Femio shook his head lightly to the side as if to tell his reflection its shame, and turned once more to cease his vanity and don his uniform.

That wasn't to say that he really had much to look forward to. His first class was dance practice, but it was common knowledge that Femio (although very artistic in his own bizarre way) was a terrible dancer who didn't even bother with the basics. Stuck in the lonesome probationary class, he was free to practice his misunderstood style without interruption or audience save the occasional accompaniment of the blind pianist (who wasn't really much for company, anyway, as he was neither a woman nor talkative).

"Montand!" called the young man, after a dramatic flurry involving a switch in attire, fondly running a hand through his hair as he waited for his bull-bearing servant to answer. It was the man's job, after all, to make his bed and draw his curtains. What kind of prince left his room untidy? What kind of prince even had to clean his room?

Silence.

"Montand?" Femio tried again, eyebrows furrowing ever-so-slightly. Strange…Montand had never been truant in the past. Cautiously, the young man pried the door open—just enough to allow a brief scanning of the surrounding hallway before slamming it shut once more and gasping. Horrified, Femio backed against the doorway, eyes wide and heart racing. _Empty. _Montand was nowhere to be found!

Slinking to the ground, Femio brought his knees to his chest and bit his lip. "Could this be…divine retribution?"

The longer Femio sat, the more he felt as if he were falling backwards into oblivion. Awake hardly fifteen minutes and already his world was crumbling before his very eyes. Such sorrow! This was an unmitigated disaster. "It's no use…" Femio whispered harshly, closing his eyes as tears formed upon his heavy lashes, "I can't…there's no way I can face my adoring crowd in such a state…"

Due to the excessive dramatics, it took Femio much longer than typically necessary to notice the sealed envelope that had been placed pristinely upon his nightstand. Of course, when he did, you can be sure he was on his feet in record time to glance over its contents, hoping it provided the explanation he so desperately sought.

_Young Master Femio,_

_My sincerest condolences for leaving you so abruptly in the late evening, but I had received an urgent summon from your Father requesting me to return immediately to the estate. If I had had my way, I would have certainly informed you of this as soon as possible, however I was under strict orders to under no circumstances disturb you with this news. I am simply to announce that you are to hereby, by order of your noble parents, complete the remainder of the semester on your own._

_Humbly,_

_Montand_

Femio felt the letter flutter deftly to the ground as he allowed a strangled choke to escape from his delicate throat. It took a good moment for his brain to process exactly what he had read…but when it had, Femio only uttered a single, solemn word:

"…alone."

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Obligatory disclaimer part two! So, I realize this is short. Because, clearly, I'm horrible at time management, I decided it would be more efficient for me to upload this in installments as opposed to the classic "chapters". In the end, that means there will probably be a profuse amount of short chapters instead of a decent amount of normal-sized chapters. Assuming I actually ever finish this fanfiction, I'll probably condense the installments together so it doesn't look super crazy or whatever...but we'll cross that bridge when we get there. Anyway, first installment go! I hope you enjoy, and review if you feel so inclined.


	3. Act 1 Scene 2

**Act 1 Scene 2**

It had been an absolute struggle for Femio to make his way to the dance hall where the probationary class met without Montand and his flock of bulls. That is, if there had been anyone else enrolled in the probationary class for him to meet up with. The tortured prince had literally dragged himself to the building, sunken eyes ignoring any and all passers-by who dared to give him a disproving glance (not that Femio could blame them staring at a tragic sinner such as himself). Theoretically, he could have ditched the period all together, but Femio would curse himself before tarnishing his sterling reputation. He was punctual, if nothing else. Besides, Femio wouldn't trust that blind pianist to keep a secret for an instant. Who knew what the man could be thinking underneath those dark glasses of his?

Once he had arrived, however, he found that not even the musician waited to greet him.

"Woe! Despair!" Femio wailed melodramatically, falling to his knees and turning his face to the sky. This was it, wasn't it? The beginning of the end, or so it was called. The spotlight centered solely on him, and no one else, was beginning to fade. The curtain to his life was nearing its close. The…the…

Running out of analogies to portray his inevitable demise, even in introspect, Femio instead let out a passionate cry and threw his hands to the cold tile beneath him. "It's no use! Oh God, I beg of you to hold your wrath no longer! Extract punishment upon this sinner!"

"Tch. He's doing it again; what a dramatist. And I wanted to get some extra practice in before dance class started! Man…"

The feminine voice, however caustic, was tantalizing to his ears. It felt like ages—centuries—since he had heard the luscious sound of a woman's delicate cords. Truly, this was more music to his ears than even the most elegant of instruments.

"But so shrouded in misery, I think he might give up and cry! How cute!" another, much softer voice chimed in response.

Femio shot his dark gaze toward the source of the voices. Two young women stood in their practice leotards and ballet shoes at the balcony above the studio: a fiery temptress and a golden goddess with widely differing expressions stared down at him, sending pangs through his tormented heart. Could they be angels, sent to smite him in all his wicked glory? In less than an instant Femio had composed himself, flipping his hair back and striking his most charming stance and flashing his most charming smile.

"I'm honored," he announced splendiferously, "to be in the presence of such stunning princesses. I'd ask you to dance, but oh! You'd most certainly decline! I'm the lowest of the low, intimidating you to tears this way! This beauty…it's a curse. If only I had a rose for each of you, rest assured they would be pillowed within your most petite of hands. To be the petals caressed by your fingertips…would be heaven. Alas, such a sinner deserves quite the opposite."

"He's so strange, Pike," the blonde giggled in malevolent glee, eyes sparkling, "it's no wonder he's an outcast. I bet there's not a person here on the campus that can stand him! Don't you think it's delightful?"

"As if," the redhead grumbled in return, crossing her arms and sighing irately. "It's annoying, is what it is!" Turning her attention away from her friend to lock her fierce eyes with Femio, she addressed him hotly. "What do you think you're doing, anyway? Don't bother showing up for probationary class if you aren't going to practice! What's the point? You'll be in probation forever unless you start dancing like a normal person!"

Femio opened his mouth, about to go on another tirade concerning how he was nothing better than dirt upon scum, but the other girl beat him to the punch with a startled gasp.

"Don't say that! He'll never get any better! How could you be so heartless? It's clear that he's a failure and has no hope of ever improving!"

Pike rolled her eyes. "Whatever. It probably is true, though. Hey, kid! Maybe you should stop wasting space and drop out of the dance division, already. You're dramatic, right? Do us all, and yourself, a favor and try your hand at acting or something! Come on, Lillie. Let's find an empty hall to practice in."

Turning away, she started toward the exit, Lillie trailing behind with a dreamily sighed, "he's so cute; I bet he'll fail at that, too."

For once in his young life, Femio had actually been stunned to silence. Those girls…they truly were his angels! He could feel the force of an epiphany changing his very core as it careened through his being like a runaway bull. Why hadn't he thought of it before? The answer was so painfully simple! _Acting. _He would take up acting.

Femio was undeniably a unique and individualistic dancer that surely belonged on tour, but surely his style of dance was so poignant that an audience couldn't bear to witness it without weeping in rapture (and Femio knew this to be true; he had seen it with his own eyes). His artistic perfection in the ways of ballet was far, far too dangerous to unleash upon the poor, unrefined sinners of Goldcrown town.

That being said, what _was_ stopping the unfortunately misunderstood protégé from expanding his horizons and finding alternative places amongst the stars? "It may be a true crime for me to take the stage…but ah! As a true conquistador, as an artist, a naturally-born thespian, and first-and-foremost a Prince, am I not entitled to this honor? Yes! Truly, there is no other option! No alternative on which I can fall back!"

Vaguely, Femio remembered seeing a poster announcing that auditions were currently being held for spots in the upcoming play: _Romeo and Juliet. _With that, the matter was settled. There was no doubting that those lovely angels had come to present him with a chance at redemption. Who better was there to take on the role of the tragically romantic Romeo? None, obviously.

Destiny was calling out to him…offering the proverbial golden apple (or something deep to that effect). Femio would save the play, save his beautifully damned soul, and maybe even find his own Juliet in the process.

Preferably one who didn't plan on stabbing herself.


End file.
